Everyone knows that the World Trade Center Transportation Hub, designed by Santiago Calatrava, was insanely expensive—close to $4 billion at last count—and everyone knows that its design is just a little bit hokey, as if it were assembled out of dinosaur bones that were too big to fit into the Museum of Natural History. What most people don’t know is that if you can get yourself past all of that, and manage to push the dinosaur metaphors and the bird metaphors and all of that money out of your mind, you can have an architectural experience there that may renew your faith in the potential of the public realm in New York.

The Oculus, which is the name that has been given to the central space in Calatrava’s sprawling complex—the first sections of which open to the public on March 3 (the rest will open late this spring)—is the exhilarating nave of a genuine people’s cathedral. It is a room that soars; under a great arc of glass, Calatrava has put together curving ribs of steel to make a space that is uplifting, full of light and movement, and capable of inspiring something that has been in particularly short supply at Ground Zero, which is hope.

Philip Johnson standing in the lobby of the David H. Koch Theater (formerly known as the Grand Promenade at the New York State Theater) in 1964.

From A.P. Images.

I’m not saying that to suggest that the Hub is a monument to the noblest ambitions of humankind. It is, after all, a train station bred to a shopping mall, and unlike Grand Central Terminal, where most of the shopping and restaurants are tucked into secondary spaces, at the World Trade Center the stores ring the monumental space. This place cost billions of dollars of public money, and it’s still a shrine to the commercial marketplace. I wish it were otherwise. But that doesn’t destroy the impact of the architecture, or negate the fact that this is the first time in a half a century that New York City has built a truly sumptuous interior space for the benefit of the public.

The last room connected to transportation that equaled this in ambition was Eero Saarinen’s great TWA Terminal at Kennedy Airport, of 1962, a masterwork that has long inspired Calatrava and has directly influenced the form of several of his projects, including this one. In another way, however, the Oculus reminds me of an entirely different place, the last majestic public interior in New York—the Grand Promenade at the New York State Theater (now the David H. Koch Theater) at Lincoln Center, by Philip Johnson, of 1964. You can’t catch a train from there, but in some ways it’s more like Calatrava’s building than the place to which it is more often compared, Grand Central, since Johnson’s room, like Calatrava’s, is a deeply earnest attempt at civic grandeur that can seem to dance on the edge of garishness. The Grand Promenade is now one of New York’s most revered interior spaces, however, proving once again that yesterday’s vulgarity can become today’s landmark.

For Johnson, the questionable excess came in the form of lots of glitter and glitz. For Calatrava, it is in the oceans of white Italian marble, not just covering the main space of the Oculus but also all of the long connecting corridors that lead to the train platforms, to the neighboring buildings in the World Trade Center complex, and even to the tunnel under West Street to the Brookfield Place complex. The grand space of the Oculus itself is but the tip of Calatrava’s white-marble iceberg, and while all of these long connecting passageways make for good urban design, like the similar ones that tie Grand Central to its neighbors, does there need to be quite so much bright, white marble?

Inside Calatrava’s World Trade Center Transportation Hub.

By Go Nakamura/Redux.

But the real point is that in a city that has built few noble public works in the last half century—a city that in our time has rarely even aspired to grandeur in public space, let alone achieved it—this project stands as a reminder that we have not given up entirely. Yes, it was inordinately expensive, and all of that marble couldn’t have helped the bottom line, but most of the high cost was due to the extraordinary engineering challenges of weaving a train station for Path commuters from New Jersey under and around several active New York City subway lines and all of the other construction at Ground Zero, not to mention the fact that the client was one of the world’s most inordinately cumbersome bureaucracies, the Port Authority.

Back when the 9/11 memorial opened a few years ago, I recall Michael Bloomberg saying something to the effect that people only complain about cost and delays when a project is underway; that once it is done, if it is any good, they forget all of that and pay attention to the thing itself. The Transportation Hub and its Oculus will put the Bloomberg Doctrine to a test, but I suspect it will pass, and that a couple of years from now, we will be hearing not about what this thing cost or about how long it took to build, but about how much people like walking through it. I certainly hope so, since nothing would be worse than to have it provoke a backlash against spending money on infrastructure. At a time when this country spends far less on public works than it should, the Hub is a rare exception to the trend. Its best legacy would be to encourage us to take more chances, and to recognize that investing in the public realm isn’t throwing away money. It is investing in the future, a gift from our generation to the ones that follow.

RADIO CITY MUSIC HALL

Declared a financial failure in the 1970s, Radio City was slated for demolition in 1978. Preservationists rallied, and the Art Deco marvel was declared an interior landmark in 1978. The largest indoor theater in the world, Radio City has attracted more than 300 million visitors since its inception in 1932.

Photo: By Frederic Lewis/Hulton Archive/Getty Images.

New Amsterdam Theater

As New York’s oldest surviving Broadway theater and the only one designed in the Art Nouveau style, New Amsterdam was flooded in the 1980s after a botched renovation attempt. It sat unused until the commission designated its interior a landmark in 1997. Soon after, it attracted the attention of the Walt Disney Co., which paid for a full restoration.

Sailors’ Snug Harbor

This 19th-century complex on Staten Island, one of the “most notable” groups of Greek Revival buildings in the United States, was founded as a place of respite for “aged, decrepit, and worn-out sailors.” After several buildings in the complex were torn down in the 1950s, the newly formed L.P.C. designated the remaining six individual landmarks in 1965triggering a legal battle with trustees. In 1968, the New York State court upheld the L.P.C.’s designation.

Photo: Courtesy of The Library of Congress.

(Loew’s) Paradise Theater

Built in 1929 along the Grand Concourse in the Bronx, the Paradise was designed to evoke exotic, foreign lands. With “360-degree trompe l’oeil visions of Old World courtyards,” a blue ceiling and light-bulb stars, the nearly 4,000-seat auditorium, after years of struggling to make a profit, shut its doors in 1994. The theater lay in ruin, switched handsand saw its interior restored in 2005. The L.P.C., which had designated the Paradise’s exterior a landmark in 1997, called the theater one of the most “amazing” spaces in New York City, and in 2006, granted the theater’s interior landmark status too.

Photo: By R. Gates/Hulton Archive/Getty Images.

The Four Seasons Restaurant

Deemed “spacious, understated and elegant” by the commission, the Four Seasons Restaurant gained interior landmark status in 1989. A lawsuit by the building’s owners challenging the landmark designation followed one year later, but was unsuccessful. Today, the restaurant’s rooms are as much a tourist attraction as they are the site for a perfect power lunch, and they remain outfitted with the original bronze, travertine marble, rawhide panels, and French oak.

Photo: From PatrickMcMullan.com.

TWA Flight Center, J.F.K. Airport

A retro-futuristic voyage back to the 1960s, the former Trans World Airlines’ terminal gained landmark status in 1994. JetBlue now operates in a new space surrounding the original structure, and tentative plans for the former terminal have included a restaurant, lounge or ticketing gates, any of which would be connected to the new terminal by passenger tubes. And yes, this is where Leonardo DiCaprio filmed that scene from Catch Me If You Can.

Photo: From Lehnartz/Ullstein bild via Getty Images.

Bryant Park

Once derelict, Bryant Park was almost a lost cause in the early 1970s—so much so that police barricades had to be placed at all of the entrances after 9 p.m. Nevertheless, the L.P.C. designated it a Scenic Landmark in 1974, calling it “an urban amenity worthy of our civic pride,” and a huge restoration began a few years later. By the 1990s the park was sufficiently chic to serve as New York Fashion Week’s home for several years. It now holds an ice skating rink in the winter and shows outdoor movies in the summer.

Photo: By Frederic Lewis/Getty Images.

RADIO CITY MUSIC HALL

Declared a financial failure in the 1970s, Radio City was slated for demolition in 1978. Preservationists rallied, and the Art Deco marvel was declared an interior landmark in 1978. The largest indoor theater in the world, Radio City has attracted more than 300 million visitors since its inception in 1932.

By Frederic Lewis/Hulton Archive/Getty Images.

New Amsterdam Theater

As New York’s oldest surviving Broadway theater and the only one designed in the Art Nouveau style, New Amsterdam was flooded in the 1980s after a botched renovation attempt. It sat unused until the commission designated its interior a landmark in 1997. Soon after, it attracted the attention of the Walt Disney Co., which paid for a full restoration.

By Geo. P. Hall & Son/The New York Historical Society/Getty Images.

Sailors’ Snug Harbor

This 19th-century complex on Staten Island, one of the “most notable” groups of Greek Revival buildings in the United States, was founded as a place of respite for “aged, decrepit, and worn-out sailors.” After several buildings in the complex were torn down in the 1950s, the newly formed L.P.C. designated the remaining six individual landmarks in 1965triggering a legal battle with trustees. In 1968, the New York State court upheld the L.P.C.’s designation.

Courtesy of The Library of Congress.

(Loew’s) Paradise Theater

Built in 1929 along the Grand Concourse in the Bronx, the Paradise was designed to evoke exotic, foreign lands. With “360-degree trompe l’oeil visions of Old World courtyards,” a blue ceiling and light-bulb stars, the nearly 4,000-seat auditorium, after years of struggling to make a profit, shut its doors in 1994. The theater lay in ruin, switched handsand saw its interior restored in 2005. The L.P.C., which had designated the Paradise’s exterior a landmark in 1997, called the theater one of the most “amazing” spaces in New York City, and in 2006, granted the theater’s interior landmark status too.

By R. Gates/Hulton Archive/Getty Images.

Grand Central Terminal

In 1968, the owners of Grand Central proposed to do to the terminal what they had more or less done to Penn Station in 1963: sell the development rights to a company that would tear down part of the space and build a tower. When the L.P.C. designated Grand Central a landmark in 1967, it was sued by the railroad company for a “taking of its property for public use without just compensation.” In 1978, after a protracted battle, the U.S. Supreme Court upheld the Landmarks Law’s protection of Grand Central Terminal.

By Hal Morey/Getty Images.

Astor Library/Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society, now the Public Theater

One of the earliest and most significant victories of the L.P.C., the original Astor Library was set to be demolished in 1965 when the nascent commission arranged for Joseph Papp’s New York Shakespeare Festival to buy the building. As one of New York’s oldest public buildings, the space now showcases some of the most talked-about plays in the city.

Courtesy of The Library of Congress.

Ladies’ Mile Historic District

Ladies’ Mile comprises more than 440 buildings on 28 blocks in the Flatiron District, which was once home to some of the city’s most popular department stores, including Bergdorf Goodman and Lord & Taylor—hence its name. In the 1980s, after seeing increasing pressure from real estate developers, local residents and celebrities including Diana Vreeland, Woody Allen, and Joseph Papp petitioned the L.P.C. to protect the area. It was designated as a landmark in 1989.

Courtesy of The Library of Congress.

The Four Seasons Restaurant

Deemed “spacious, understated and elegant” by the commission, the Four Seasons Restaurant gained interior landmark status in 1989. A lawsuit by the building’s owners challenging the landmark designation followed one year later, but was unsuccessful. Today, the restaurant’s rooms are as much a tourist attraction as they are the site for a perfect power lunch, and they remain outfitted with the original bronze, travertine marble, rawhide panels, and French oak.

From PatrickMcMullan.com.

TWA Flight Center, J.F.K. Airport

A retro-futuristic voyage back to the 1960s, the former Trans World Airlines’ terminal gained landmark status in 1994. JetBlue now operates in a new space surrounding the original structure, and tentative plans for the former terminal have included a restaurant, lounge or ticketing gates, any of which would be connected to the new terminal by passenger tubes. And yes, this is where Leonardo DiCaprio filmed that scene from Catch Me If You Can.

From Lehnartz/Ullstein bild via Getty Images.

Bryant Park

Once derelict, Bryant Park was almost a lost cause in the early 1970s—so much so that police barricades had to be placed at all of the entrances after 9 p.m. Nevertheless, the L.P.C. designated it a Scenic Landmark in 1974, calling it “an urban amenity worthy of our civic pride,” and a huge restoration began a few years later. By the 1990s the park was sufficiently chic to serve as New York Fashion Week’s home for several years. It now holds an ice skating rink in the winter and shows outdoor movies in the summer.